Thank you from the bottom of my heart for landing me where you did.
Heads, I'm lucky.
Tails, many might not be so...
Social, Just is? (A poem by Jo Broom)
A smear of dew on upper lip
He’s dabbing at his brow
Unable to complete the task
(No one ever showed him how)
White stuff blown forth everywhere
Chance reveals your final fate
One might land at royal feet
Or in a war-torn state
To dance and fly or hurt and die
Two sides the coin can rest
Tails, life ends in smithereens
Or Heads, you're tucked in Sunday best
So before they put you in your tux
Look at your sorry friend
And make the time to teach him how
That he might save his early end.
jojobee
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